


Second Time of Consideration

by BorkMork



Category: Steven Universe (Cartoon)
Genre: Coffee Shop Fic, F/M, soft jock AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-12
Updated: 2020-01-12
Packaged: 2021-02-27 16:01:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,917
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22229857
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BorkMork/pseuds/BorkMork
Summary: After tutoring Steven Universe, Connie Maheswaran is brought to a familiar question.Sequel to "First Time of Consideration".
Relationships: Connie Maheswaran & Steven Universe
Comments: 3
Kudos: 27





	Second Time of Consideration

**Author's Note:**

> This is for the Soft Jock AU, an AU where Connie and Steven don't meet until college.
> 
> Here's the link if you want to check it out: https://susoftjockau.tumblr.com/

Suspicions were always a breakthrough to revelation; either by profound curiosity or persnickety cajolery, Connie always found a way to get the answer she craved when it came down to problems in her life. If there was a situational problem—such as with an algebraic equation (with its word sentences and its fetish for formula implementation) that needed more logical thinking than basic run-down memory—then she would zone out for a few minutes to test the pathways she had. Of course, she didn’t fully zone out, but her moments were full of focus, honed in on answering the small question like a dog to a bone.

When it came to Steven, it was a chase for answers that she never expected to be fully requited for. He wasn’t an enigma, per se, but he was definitely someone that she wanted to know more about. It all came down to a few questions, but the most important being: how far will they go as ‘friends’ now that she trusts him?

It’s a silly thought if she pondered about it too much, yet it made sense to her. There was a new feeling of relief ever since that night—nestled in the arms of a legitimate friend, warm to the touch from shared heat—and she couldn’t help but ponder over it again and again and again. Jeez, it made her feel like an infatuated YA protagonist from just thinking about it; it wasn’t like she was leaning towards him for romance like the schlock she’d find at the bottom of a dollar store bin, she just had to wipe her mind of that idea and just think about the main picture.

He’s now her friend. That was the start, but will it work out?

What was supposed to be expected from her?

* * *

It was a beautiful evening, and Connie had a lot of thoughts to peruse over.

For one, she had to organize the upcoming tutoring sessions. Discussing with Steven’s dad over the phone had allowed her to get a better idea of what needed to be done; just the standard change in schedule, the shift in what should be focused on, and the typical thought process of what she was going to use to help him remember a formula or symbol. It wasn’t overwhelming. It’s enough for her to fiddle with her hair, frustration simmering low in her stomach, but it’s a tolerant feeling compared to other intense scenes from her life.

The second one is where the true introspection came about. Steven had asked her to come over to the café to talk about something—why he never asked about it through text was something she wanted to ask but it was too late now, she walked all the way here with her laptop bag and going back is just going to be a waste of time. Might as well get her favorite order for a day such as this.

An expresso.

Five creams. One sugar.

Enough to bring her through the day like always. Like any other day, actually. This is just the first time she’ll ever do this where her pupil invited her without the intention of tutoring. Huh.

First time for everything? She had no clue how to describe the feeling—she wanted it to go away.

“Oh, hey!” She looked up to see the boy in question. His smile gleamed, the sunlight hitting him in soft hues that made her nestle more at his expression. She had been used to seeing his chipper self like this for a few months now. It was relaxing to look at. “Sorry if I’m late.”

“It’s fine, you did mark the time as one p.m. after all, so you’re on the dot.”

“Oh,” he blushed before pulling back a chair. “Yeah, you’re just early.”

Connie couldn’t help her giggle.

He was in his typical clothes—the letterman, the cartoon shirt, the crisp yellow and blue—but the casual air around him was potent. There doesn’t seem to be a worry on his mind for today, an elation seeping through from how he tapped his fingers on the table and gosh, his smile just kept beaming at her like he was seeing the aurora borealis. What was he thinking about?

“Sooo, I want to talk to you about something.” He started.

“Don’t you want some food though?” She took a sip from her espresso. It wasn’t piping, thank the lord. “They have a special on pastries today, one of your favorites too.“

Steven went starry-eyed. “Mega-classic éclairs?”

“Three fifty-nine.”

“Aw, man.” He groaned, nestling his face onto the table. “I should’ve gotten my wallet.”

“Why didn’t you bring your wallet?” She asked. “It’s a long trip from Beach City to Ocean Town, did you have snacks in your car and you ran out?”

He gave her a nervous laugh. “You can say that; snacks sound great right now, though.” Suspicious, as always, but she couldn’t help but feel sympathy over it.

“Let me buy one for you.”

He stiffened. “No, I wouldn’t want you to go that far for me.”

“I’m just gonna buy an éclair.” And a hash brown to curb his hunger. And an additional salad. With a cup of warm cocoa. Now that she’s looking at him closer, he seemed to be shaking—hypoglycemia, perhaps?

“Really, I wouldn’t.”

“Steven,” her voice was stern, eyes piercing into him with intensity—the other staring back with pooling uncertainty. “I didn’t walk three miles to have you deny that you’re starving in a café. I have money, and I know you’re hungry, so let me treat you for one day.”

He just rubbed his neck. Looking back at the displays of food, Connie noticed him shift in his seat, until he gave her a quick nod and a small thank you under his breath. There it was, the go-to. She stood up, motioning him forward to come along; she needed to know what he wanted.

When they returned, their tables were decorated with food platters. One of them continued to sip on her coffee, and the other gorged on his egg salad and banana bread without a moment’s notice (his éclair and hot cocoa on stand-by in a napkin). She wondered if it was enough for him, from how his form twitched every so often, the sight of him plowing through like a lawnmower. “You need to be careful about this stuff, Steven.”

He looked up, his question muffled by the contents in his mouth.

“Uhm, Steven.”

He swallowed. “Sorry. Like what?”

“Your diet. There were no snacks in the drive here, were there? Did you eat lunch? Breakfast?” Worry was one of those vital things to feel about something like this. She doesn’t know how frequent his episodes were, but she knew the tell-tale signs of someone who’s health was weaker than the cafeteria awning.

“I had a protein shake for breakfast.”

“And what else?”

His stare became unfocused. “An orange.”

She brushed a hand through her hair, hoping the tension growing in her body would dissipate. He had to be joking; she knew the college diet was horrible—especially with the growing money problem—but she couldn’t stand the idea of him, in particular, doing that to himself.

Connie inhaled, focus boring at the weight in her bag. “I’m going to buy more food for take-out. We’ll split it—fifty-fifty.”

“But you already gave me so much,” he wiped a bit of egg salad from his lips, a frown now adorning them. “What about you get all of it?”

“Fifty-fifty.” She grimaced. This was getting a bit too much. She didn’t want to argue with him. “Okay, wait, what about sixty and forty?”

“That could work.” Steven fumbled with his fork. The prongs poked at the remains of his food, the éclair still uneaten. “But are you sure? I won’t be that hungry when I get back.”

“Just see it as a thank you from me.”

“A thank you?”

“For being my...friend.” Her throat was heavy, cotton-like, but she kept going. “You did so much for me, I have to show off my gratitude somehow.”

Connie hated sentimentality. There was something about it that brought submission or nakedness to these conversations that she didn’t enjoy by a long shot, but the way Steven beamed at her—even through his continued tremors and their small tension—made her relax more than she ever would’ve predicted. It was comforting. It didn’t accuse her of weakness; he understood, even if only a little.

“You deserve the best after all.” He told her, plopping the last of his banana bread into his mouth. “You’re amazing.”

Okay, this is getting too sentimental.

“All right!” She coughed, trying to ignore the heat from her cheeks. “So, what did you want to talk about?”

“Hm?”

“The thing you wanted to talk to me about. The reason why we’re both here.”

”Oh!” He took a swig from his cocoa. “Almost forgot about that. I wanted to know if you’re okay with going to a party with me and the girls.”

She tapped at her coffee. Why does this feel so familiar? Connie bit her lip. “What type of party?”

“Just a normal party. Natalie told me it’s near that huge park area with the big tree in the middle.” Oh no. “There’s gonna be a DJ, lots of music, food, games.” Oh God, no. “And the best part, a buttload of people to dance with!” How can he call it normal even after all that?! Is he out of his mind?

Connie swallowed, the lump in her throat remaining even after her best effort. “And...you want me to go?”

“Yeah!” Steven’s smile hurt her more and more—he really wanted her to go. “I mean, you don’t have to go if you don’t want to, but since we’re friends, I wanted to see if you’re comfortable with it now.”

Connie Maheswaran. What are you supposed to do? You can’t just say no.

“Connie?” She looked at him again. His features contorted in a frown, her heart sinking at the sight. “Is everything okay?”

”I’m fine. I’m just thinking.” Thinking lead to worries, and worries lead to anxieties. But she knew that she had to keep her cool, she didn’t want to be a mess over one of her first-established friends, she might as well be waving red flags that she can’t be his friend at all with the way she’s acting. “I’ll gladly go, it—it sounds like fun!”

His eyes lit up. “Really?”

“Yeah.” She pushed down the protests in her head. If she was going to make the effort of being his friend, she would have to push some boundaries. “I want to go with you guys, just tell me the date and when you’re picking me up, then I’ll prepare.”

Even with the fear toiling in her gut, Steven’s flushed elation—his little squeal calmed by the munch of his éclair—made it sound worth it. It shouldn’t be that bad, right? It wouldn’t be like the previous times? Her doubts, turbulent and murky, kept themselves present even as discussion changed, leaving her to feel a sense of foreboding when the two of them departed moments later at the door: one holding a big takeout bag in their hand with sunshine radiating from his gait, the other trying to curb the idea of stress eating as she embarked on her miles-long walk back to her dorm.


End file.
